


Humans and their Folklore

by Rairechu



Category: Portal (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Cardiophilia, Emetophilia, F/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-14
Updated: 2018-12-14
Packaged: 2019-09-18 01:28:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16985541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rairechu/pseuds/Rairechu
Summary: Wheatley is sick with a lil stomach bug and Chell has to take care of him! Sickfic bc I dont see enough of Sick!Wheatley.





	Humans and their Folklore

**Author's Note:**

> PLEASE do NOT read this if you have emetophobia or a fear of vomiting. There aren't any descriptions of it, but it basically talks about what feeling nauseous feels like. So if you have a fear of vomit, dont read.
> 
> Takes place post-Blue Sky AU.

Winter was a calming time of year. The time of year for snow and warm fires. For cuddling up in blankets and spending time with your loved ones. As beautiful as this time of year was, it also a time for colds and flus as well.

This couldn't ring more true for Wheatley who was experiencing-- in his mind is, the virus to end all viruses. He felt absolutely horrid. Not even an exaggeration; he was snuggled up on the couch with two or three blankets over his lanky body, dark circles under his eyes, his blonde hair was an absolute mess, and he shivered harshly from chills due to his fever.

Chell had been told by Dr. Vic that Wheatley would be fine so long as he got rest and kept his fluids up. Something he obviously didn't do. Rest was more of a joke due to his /wonderful/ ability to panic over the smallest things. Keeping himself from being dehydrated was the bigger joke since he could barely keep water down even if he tried. It hurt Chell to see her boyfriend in such a miserable state, yet it also seemed fair for him to experience sickness seeing as he was a human.

Chell walked into the living room, handing Wheatley, who was curled up on the couch under blankets, some warm tea with honey in it.

"Here, drink this." She said in a soft tone as to not startle him if he was hiding... For some reason.

Wheatley lowered the covers and sat up a little. He wanted nothing more than to drink something so long as he didn't puke it up afterwards, but it seemed impossible. He tried to push his better judgement aside and carefully took the mug from her. It was warm and inviting, smelling sweet and herbal.

"Erm... Chell, luv, is.. Is it ok if I drink this? I-I mean, not that I don't want to, I love tea and all, especially the way you make it, but I don't.. Want to experience that awful feeling again..." He stammered, adjusting himself so that Chell could sit beside him.

Chell took a sip of her own drink, hot chocolate, and sighed, "Wheatley, you heard the doctor. You need to stay hydrated."

"Yeah but, and just hear me out ok, listen, I can't really drink anything and--

Chell gave him a slightly irritated look.

"You'll be okay." She said as she took another sip.

"B-but, but--  
"Do you expect to get better by not drinking anything?"

Wheatley blinked a few times, looking up and scratching his chin. Was it possible? There was so much to being human that he had no idea about. What exactly was being sick? Just humanity's equivalent of a virus? If so, wasn't there some sort of diagnostic for it? Some sort of medication?

"...Maybe? I know I haven't been human for long, but I do know that sometimes humans can survive long enough without water." He looked back down at Chell who wore an I-cant-believe-you're-actually-thinking-about-it expression.

"Three days."  
"Huh?"  
"You, me, _humans_  can only live three days without water."

Wheatley's eyes went wide and he leaned over to Chell in bewilderment, mouth agape.

"What?? Three days? That's only 72 bloody hours!"

"You're shocked because...?" Chell raised a brow at him, relaxing back into the sofa as she set her mug on the coffee table.

"I... I had no idea! That this," he pointed to his chest, "fleshy body needed water of all things to just live! Bloody maddening I tell ya!" without thinking about it, he took a sip of his tea. "As a core I wouldn't dare to even touch water so well as look at it! Mad! Insane!" He said in shock as he took another drink of his tea.

Chell gave him a grin. This is why she loved him so much. He was so dense and busy trying to prove himself right that he didn't ever stop to think. If it weren't for that, she'd have to force him to drink something and she definitely didn't want to go down that route.

"Honey, you do realize that sixty percent of the human body _is_ water, don't you?" Chell stated, picking her mug back up and sipping at her hot cocoa.

Wheatley seemed as if he was caught at a strange crossroads. Of course he knew that!... Maybe, or he remembered hearing about it... Or he heard it from somewhere else...  
He looked away, almost as if he was offended.

"Of course I know that!"  
"Yet you didn't know that we couldn't survive without it."

He opened his mouth to speak but stopped, unable to think of a clever witty response. Instead of a reply, he groaned in pain as he put his hand on his aching forehead.

Chell gave him a soft glance, carefully putting both of their mugs down before inching closer to him. She gently moved his hand and placed her palm on his forehead, trying to gauge his temperature. Wheatley couldn't help but blush as Chell was so close to his face.

"You're still warm... and clammy..." She made a worried look as her hand slide down, stroking her thumb on his cheek.

As much as he wanted to say he was fine, he really wasn't. He couldn't even bring himself to. Even if he did, there was no use lying to Chell. Shes so smart and quick to catch on, and with Wheatley's impressive ability to ruin his own alibi, it wouldn't do him any favors to begin with.  
He opted to just rest his face against her hand. God, she was so warm and soft. He couldn't imagine someone else caring for him like she does. It was... soothing to him. Such a fierce and strong girl loving him, out of all people. He felt so lucky.

Chell smiled at him as he looked into her silver eyes. As much as she didn't say it, he really has adapted to being a human very well. Probably better than she ever expected. With something as tricky as a stomach flu, Wheatley hasn't had a oh-god-what-is-happening-to-me-chell-im-gonna-die moment for at least a day now. Chalk it up to a new record. She noticed the relaxing silence get cut off by Wheatley's stomach growling.

"Wait wait wait wait! Dont tell me! I got this!" Wheatley, seemingly more excited to guess the reasons as to why his human body was making noise, sat up and crossed his arms.

"You're hungry. You haven't eaten since last night, and even then you just ate crackers." Chell said bluntly, annoyed with his inability to acknowledge his own human needs.

"Don't take this the wrong way, Chell, dear, but ah... I don't feel hungry. If I was, wouldn't it hurt?"

"Not really. When you're sick, your body doesn't have time to focus on much else other than fighting off the sickness... Assuming the severity of it of course." Chell stood up, making her way into the kitchen. "I'm going to make you some soup. It'll help, ok?"

Wheatley sank into the blankets, making a stubborn face akin to a child's. He sure did act like one sometimes. He could only hide his face as the very thought of eating was enough to turn his stomach. Damn this stupid virus. He hated it.  
It was times like this where he truly became aware of how weak humans really were. As a core, if he had something wrong with his programming, he'd run a simple scan, check yes, boom problem solved. With humans though, there was rest. A lot of rest. Medicine, light eating, drinking water, visiting doctors, taking your temperature... it was all still so confusing to him.  
The microwave made a 'ding', indicating his food was done. He groaned to himself.

"Here, just take a few sips." Her voice said softly as he lowered the blankets. Those silver eyes full of concern and care... He couldn't go against them.

He took the bowl, stirring the contents around and raising an eyebrow as he scooped up some noodles. Human food was another concept he struggled to understand. Humans need to eat in order to have energy. Compared to being a core, he didn't need these pointless things. Just a quick recharge, that's all it took. But nooo humans have to be all weird with their... needs and their... folklore.

He paused on that thought, getting sidetracked in his life previously as a core. He took a bite of noodles as he began to realize, sort of an epiphany, that according to all records of human history, he was the ONLY person who can actually say they used to be a robot and have been to space without a spacesuit! Ha! Try and beat those staggering heights, Aperture!! This moron isn't really a moron now is he? If he's been on the flippin' moon in the vacuum of space with no protection, surely not!

Chell, completely unaware of his little inner world monologue he was having, gave a quiet sigh and watched him eat. He seemed so lost in his own little world that it made her a little envious. She wished that her mind could escape to random thoughts and imagination like his. It would surely give her a break from the memories that seemed to rear their ugly heads every now and then. Having Wheatley here though, knowing he's not dying in space or back with Her, was so relieving. It was enough to make her push those harsh memories aside to make new ones with him in Eaden.

Before either of them knew it, Wheatley had finished his soul. Quite shocked on his part as he didn't even realize it. Was he really hungry like she said?

"Feel better?" She asked as she took his now empty bowl.

"No? Apart from not feeling like my, um, stomach is empty then yes. As still feeling bad from this flu goes. no."

Chell could only giggle at his... Wheatley-ness. A giggle that made him even weaker than he already was. Chell went back to the kitchen and set the bowl in the sink before returning to him, gently having him lay down so that she can lay down on his torso.

"I'm not hurting you, am I?" She asked, gently playing with the strings on his-- well, her hoodie-- that she let him wear.

Wheatley shook his head, laying down a bit more to give her more room.

"N-no luv, not at all. If you do need to move because you're uncomfortable, then that's fine." he smiled meekly before realizing what he said and panicking, "N-not saying that you _are_ making me uncomfortable!! Quite the opposite actually! It feels nice to have you o-on top of... Me... Like this..." His voice got softer as he spoke the last few words, his face now a deep shade of red.

Chell could do nothing but smile at him, entwining her fingers with his and resting her head on his chest.

"Try to get some rest, dear. You need it." She spoke softly, closing her own eyes. She could hear the rhythmic sounds of his heartbeat through his clothes, the feeling of his heart-- his **human** heart-- reverberated in her ears like a soothing lullaby.

"Right.. Rest.. Yeah ok." He stammered, gently adjusting the throw pillow behind his head and resting his hands gingerly on her back before closing his eyes.

* * *

Sleep was something Wheatley wasn't so good at. Many times he would have nightmares of Aperture, nightmares of space, nightmares of Kevin being killed by a meteor, nightmares about losing Chell... It was all a heavy weight in the back of his mind that only showed in his sleep, and he despised it. Luckily since he's been ill, he hasn't had any nightmares. Not even dreams, just... Empty peaceful blackness.  
The same sort of peace he felt before Caroline spoke to him, before his eyes stung, before that vile liquid burnt his throat as he choked for air...

Wheatley shot awake, panting heavily. He looked around the room, trying desperately to shake the thought and memory of his nightmare. He'd grown accustomed to it, nightmares. Chell taught him to look around the room when he had one to remind himself he wasn't back there. That was hard to do when your vision is blurry and your head is foggy.  
He put his glasses on, hoping they would help clear his vision. It did, but it still felt like he was spinning even though he was sitting still.

"Are you ok?"

He looked down to see Chell awake, her eyes half-lidded as if she'd been woken up. He didn't even know he was breathing so heavily, his heart was racing too. He ran his fingers through his messy hair, trying to steady his breathing as he shut his eyes. The disorientation he was feeling didn't help any.  
He didn't know what triggered that memory, that horrible awful feeling of revisiting Her-- the disgusting taste of the fluid in his mouth, the feeling of his lungs thickly coated as if he was drowning, the feeling of the ice cold metal under his skin when he was let out... It was enough to make him feel sick.

"Wheatley?"

He slowly opened his eyes, the room steadying ever so slightly as he looked at her concerned expression. He let out a small whine as she stroked his hair from his face and sat up.

"Bad dream?"

He nodded weakly before wrapping his arms around her, burying his face into her shoulder. Without hesitation, she held him close, rubbing his back.  
Why couldn't he talk? He wanted to tell her about his nightmare, but he... He couldn't. As if his throat was constricted and he was too afraid to talk about it. That, and the fact that he couldn't stop thinking of that disgusting tasting fluid was really hammered into his mouth and he didn't know why. His stomach churned from remembering the taste. Why was his stupid human brain doing this to him?

"Chell." He finally choked out, sounding more hoarse and scratchy than anything.

She carefully pulled away, studying his expression. For once he was unreadable to her, which was odd since he was as transparent as cellophane. He looked a mix of confusion, fear, sickness, and disoriented. She could only keep comforting him, running her fingers through his hair and hoping it helps him calm down some.  
He rest his head on her shoulder, trying to rest as she dragged her nails slowly and lovingly down his back. Unaware of it, he clutched his stomach as it cramped up and churned painfully.

"C-Chell I... I feel w-weird again..." He muttered, pulling himself away to look at her.

She noticed his glassy eyes, strained voice, and his hands that clutched at his stomach. Now she knew what was wrong.

"Okay, it's ok. Come on." She took his hand and carefully helped him off the couch.

She guided him to the bathroom, flicking on the light and carefully helping him knee down in front of the toilet as she lifted the seat.  
Wheatley blinked a few times, more confused than ever as he relaxed on his knees. He... Had no idea what this was supposed to do. He felt weird before but this was worse and more confusing. He looked at Chell as if to ask what the point of this was.

Chell sighed a bit exasperated and tired, placing her hand on his back as she sat down beside him, taking his glasses off for him and holding them.

"That weird feeling, is it in your belly?" She asked.

He nodded, still unable to find his voice.

"That feeling is called nausea. It happens when you're sick or something makes you very uncomfortable." She rubbed his back in slow circles. "You have a stomach flu, which means your stomach gets upset for stupid reasons. Everyone gets it from time to time."

He looked quizzically at her.  
"W-why are we in the bathroom?" He managed to say with a soft tone.

Did she really have to explain all of this to him? Its not like it's his first time being sick. Hell, he's been doing nothing but clutching a trashcan into his chest for the past couple days.

"Wheatley..." She pinched the bridge of her nose. "Usually when you feel nauseous or sick, you typically go to the bathroom to throw up." Her voice had a slight hint of irritation in it.

That... Made no sense to him. The bathroom was for other things, not this, at least that's what he was told. None of this whole sickness made any sense to him if he were honest. The weakness of the human body was such a downer when he thought about it.

"H-how do I make it stop, luv?" He muttered, setting his elbows on the rim and resting his chin in his hands. "I-It really hurts."

"You gotta wait it out. It sucks, but trust me, you'll feel better." She didn't even want to bring up the mention of forcing ones self to be sick. Who knows what kind of idiocy that would lead to.

He made a tiny groan, staring blank at the water in the toilet. He didn't even feel sick anymore, more so confused that this is how humans feel better when their stomach is upset. It made no sense-- staring at the water in the toilet? How can that make you--

Unexpectedly, he felt his stomach lurch, leading him to cough harshly as he shut his eyes. His body shuddered from the taste of burning acid in the back of his throat, something he hated and made him scared ever since his encounter with Her. He kept his eyes shut, not wanting to see what happens just in case it would make him feel worse.

After a few seconds of silence Wheatley coughed again, vomit spilling into the toilet as he groaned and whined from the awful taste. He refused to open his eyes and kept them covered with his hands. His stomach gurgled once more, forcing him to puke again.

This was horrible. Probably the worst experience he has ever had as a human. One he never wanted to experience again. Tears were stinging his eyes from the strain in his throat, chest, and abdomen. He'd be lying if he said he didn't feel a little better though.

  
He heard the toilet flush and her voice say, "You can open your eyes now, it's ok."

He shakily moved his hands from his teary eyes, looking up at Chell who was now standing and handing him a tissue and a cup of water. He took both, drinking the water first. He struggled to swallow it, what with the lingering taste of vomit in his mouth, but felt better when he did. It was as if the cooling water was a giant blanket that wrapped his body in a comforting hug... Kinda. He wiped his nose, mouth and eyes with the tissue before throwing it away.

"Feel better?" She asked him, crossing her arms and leaning against the wall looking down at him.

He looked up at her, still confused about everything that just happened.

"I-I don't know... H-how do I know if I feel better?" He asked, having to clear his throat a few times. "Also what just happened? Should've asked that first."

"You threw up. That's how humans feel better when their stomachs hurt." She helped him stand, steadying him as he wavered from dizziness.

"I-I don't understand..." He murmured as Chell led him back into the living room.

"I know."

He laid back down, bringing his knees to his chest as Chell tucked the blankets into his. He just wanted to forget what just happened. Make it go away forever.

Chell climbed onto the couch, nudging herself into his arms and ran her fingers through his hair. She felt bad for not explaining enough to him, but... she was pretty sure he'd understand soon enough. She just wanted him to rest. After the nightmare and him vomiting, he deserved to get a decent nights rest. She loving rubbed his tummy, hoping to soothe the pain. He kissed her forehead, putting blankets over her.

She closed her eyes as he held her close to his chest. There it was-- that gently beating lullaby in his chest again. She smiled to herself, kissing his chest and nuzzling into him once more.

And then they slept.


End file.
